


Do Not Bend, Do Not Break

by NamelesslyNightlock



Series: Going Down Swinging [21]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Asgardian Tony Stark, BAMF Loki (Marvel), Duelling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fights, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt/Comfort, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Minor Injuries, Mutual Pining, Pining, Protective Tony Stark, Stubborn Loki (Marvel), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 13:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20448134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: Loki’s not usually the sort to give up. Even when he's beaten andbloodyand any sane person would have deemed victory impossible, Loki still keeps on fighting. But sometimes even he can lose his confidence– and when that happens, Anthony is always there to support him. No matter what.





	Do Not Bend, Do Not Break

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you **STARSdidathing** for helping me with the summary!  
  
**Prompt**— _“It’s never too late to get back up again.”_

When Sif issued the challenge, Anthony felt his heart sink to his stomach. Although, to call it a challenge is to be too kind– it was a _taunt_, mockingly delivered in the hopes of failure and embarrassment.

“Don’t you think you could beat him without your seiðr, Loki? Are you too scared?”

“I think he is,” Volstagg replied, though he, at least, had not been looking at Loki when he said it. “He never fails to use his seiðr in battle.”

Anthony wanted to step forward then, to snap and snarl and remind them that of _course he does_, because Loki is not a fool and only fools refuse to use an advantage at their fingertips when it means the difference between winning and losing– especially when, such as in a battle, losing could very well mean death.

But Anthony knew that Loki would not appreciate it, because he knew the prince so very well. He knew it just as he knew that Loki was going to accept the _challenge_, because Loki had always wanted to prove himself a warrior, and he had always hated that the others considered him weak.

So Anthony held his tongue as Loki’s eyes narrowed, and as he slipped a dagger from his sleeve.

The fight that followed was brutal. Fandral went in no holds barred, and Loki struggled to keep up from the first. Anthony knew that he likely would have started the duel with a thrown dagger or an illusion in any other circumstance– but he was trying to prove himself a worthy warrior, and so Loki charged forward in the same moment as his opponent.

Because Loki was using a dagger and Fandral a sword, Loki needed to get inside Fandral’s reach– which, of course, he _usually_ would have done by teleporting with his seiðr, but without it, he was left with ducking Fandral’s attacks, and trying to get further inside the swinging sword or around Fandral’s flank. Of course, Loki had always been quick and agile, but this was Fandral’s element, and he spun like a dancer, jumping away from Loki’s swipes and avoiding every attempt that Loki made.

It was hard to watch, knowing what Loki would have done– what he _should_ have done, had the fight been anywhere near fair. And in the end, it only took one hit of Fandral’s hilt to Loki’s temple, and then Loki was on the ground and the fight was over.

Anthony reached Loki just before Thor did, and Loki woke at the first touch to his shoulders. He seemed a little confused at first, but then clarity hit and his eyes hardened. He shoved Anthony’s hands away, and pulled himself to his feet without help.

“Loki, you should sit, don’t stand too quickly—”

“Do _not_ tell me what to do, Anthony,” Loki hissed, and Anthony lowered his gaze.

He didn’t know exactly what Loki was feeling, but he thought that he could probably guess– because he had accepted the unkind challenge the hopes of proving the others wrong, and in his failure he would only be further mocked.

Anthony heard Loki sigh, and then he looked up as he felt an apologetic hand lightly touch his arm– but by the time that he did, Loki had already turned to leave.

“Loki,” Anthony called, intending to follow—

“I have duties to attend to, Anthony,” Loki said, glancing back. “I am afraid that I shall not be available to spend time in your company today.”

Anthony had to hold himself still to prevent a flinch. It wasn’t that he and Loki had plans– they never did, after all. And while Anthony knew that Loki often _did_ have duties that would eat away at the time they could spend together, Loki always managed to find time in between, just as Anthony found time amongst his work in the forge. There was never a day that they did not see each other, and to think that Loki was dismissing him now, even when he was so clearly in need of comfort… it hurt.

But, thankfully, it seemed that Loki was not done.

“Perhaps you will visit the stables with me tomorrow?” the prince asked, the words more hesitant than they had any right to be, since they made a rush of relief course straight through Anthony’s veins.

“I would like that,” Anthony said.

Loki’s expression softened for a moment, but his only response was a firm nod before he turned to leave for good.

Anthony decided to leave as well, then– even though he had not done any training, he did not think that he would be able to spend another moment amongst the Aesir who were supposed to be his and Loki’s friends– the Aesir who were even now still giggling over the way that Loki had lost.

—

When Anthony went down to the training grounds the next morning for their usual session, he found that he was the last to arrive.

There was some excited chattering, and Anthony realised that a few of the Einherjar had showed up to watch, as well as a few of the other warriors who liked to practice on the training grounds when they weren’t in use for the princes’ sparring sessions.

And standing right in the middle of it all, throwing and catching a dagger with focus etched across his face, was Loki.

Tony approached a little hesitantly, half worried that he might end up with the knife buried in his shoulder if he startled the prince too suddenly.

“Loki?” Anthony asked. “What are you doing?”

“I am going to try again,” Loki said firmly. “I am going to show them that I _can_ beat them, even without using my seiðr.”

While Anthony couldn’t help but admire Loki’s determination, a terrible sense of dread began to settle in his gut– because Loki was not the sort of person who _ever_ gave up. They were rather alike in that regard– and when there was something in Loki’s sights, he would go after it, whether it be the answer to a question that no one else had yet thought of, the invention of a new spell that could achieve the impossible– or apparently, the bull-headed desire to prove himself when there wasn’t really a _need_.

“Loki,” Anthony said, his voice a little thick. “You know that I will stand by you in everything.”

Loki tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “You do not think this wise,” he observed.

“No,” Anthony confirmed– because even though it wasn’t what Loki wanted to hear, even though it was certainly not what Loki _needed_ to hear at the moment, with his ears and head already full of people saying only ‘_you can’t’_… Anthony refused to lie to Loki. “But I still mean what I said. I do not think that this is wise because I do not understand why you feel the need to put yourself through it when we both know that you are more than capable of—”

“You are right,” Loki said. “I _am_ more than capable of this. And I am going to prove it.”

Loki stared at Anthony dangerously then, as if daring him to say otherwise. But Anthony merely reached out and clasped Loki’s shoulder.

“Then I will stand by you,” he echoed. “Always.”

There was a short discussion between the group on the other side of the ring, and then it was Volstagg who stepped forward. The sight of Volstagg’s heavy axe gave Anthony the urge to gulp, but he was able to push the feeling away, not wanting to give Loki any further cause for concern.

Loki gave Anthony a reassuring smile before he too moved into position– and Anthony was left on the sidelines, feeling as if that was a little too backward. Surely he should be the one giving reassurance, and not the other way around.

The fight with Volstagg lasted longer than the one with Fandral had the previous day, though that was more to do with Loki putting himself on the defensive than anything else. You see, Fandral and Volstagg’s styles of fighting could not have been more different. Whereas Fandral had danced his way to victory, Volstagg carved his way with angry swings, and Loki did not even try to get close.

Anthony could see what Loki was doing, and it worked a smile onto his face– because Loki was waiting for Volstagg to tire, and that was more like _Loki_ than any of this had been.

And as Volstagg’s swings did indeed begin to slow, as the space between each one lengthened, Anthony started to think that Loki would win this one– that maybe, just _maybe—_

“Is this cowardice, Loki?” Fandral called out. “Why do you only dodge? Are you too afraid to attack?”

“No,” Anthony whispered under his breath, hoping, _praying_. “No, Loki, keep your head. You know how to win this.”

But something icy hard entered Loki’s gaze, his stance changed, and he darted in between two blows that even Anthony could see would not be far enough apart.

And then the blunt side of Volstagg’s axe swept Loki’s legs from under him, and he hit the ground with a heavy _thud_ that Anthony heard all the way down to his bones.

Loki was limping heavily when he left the grounds afterward, though he once again refused any help—

And once again, he told Anthony that he would be too busy for company.

“I thought we would visit the stables?” Anthony asked quietly, pained by the loss of time with his friend– with the person he cared for above all others in the realm.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Loki replied, not even turning to catch Anthony’s gaze, too focused on putting one foot in front of the other and escaping the watchful gaze of the small crowd.

It was only because he knew Loki so very well that Anthony heard something more in those words than dismissal. His heart cracked a little when he realised that Loki had wanted the visit to the stables, the free time together, to be a celebration. Loki wasn’t passing on it now because he did not want to spend time with Anthony– rather, Loki thought that he did not deserve it.

_Maybe tomorrow_ is what Loki had said, but Anthony knew that Loki had been referring to something else– and he could fill in the rest of the sentence.

_Maybe tomorrow, I will win._

—

By the third day, it was clear that the others had turned it into something of a game. They waited for Loki to arrive to their morning sparring session with anticipated whispers, and the audience around the grounds was larger than the morning before.

Fandral tried to encourage Anthony to join the conversation, but he pinned them all with such a glare that even Sif backed away. At least they only tried the once, however– after all, they knew that he was Loki’s friend before anyone else’s, even if they didn’t understand why.

Anthony and Loki had been as thick as thieves ever since they had been children, as close as any two could be without being family– and even though Anthony knew that Loki admired Thor with all his heart, Anthony wondered sometimes if Loki didn’t feel more comfortable with him than he did in the presence of his brother. Over time, a few had tried to ask Anthony _why_, and he always took great care to explain to them just how amazing Loki truly was.

When Loki finally arrived, he was not limping as he had been the day before, but there was something sharp in his step that suggested he was not fully healed. Anthony _almost_ wondered why, because he knew Loki could have visited the royal healers and been entirely healed in but a moment.

But Anthony didn’t want to think about why Loki might have refused, might have wanted to leave what very well could have been a cracked femur to heal on its own– because if Loki was extending the ‘no seiðr’ challenge to his _healing_ as well, then…

Then Anthony wouldn’t be able to resist stepping in, and he did not _want_ to seem like he was turning on Loki as well, like he was just another person telling him ‘no’.

The fight with Hogun went much the same as the others– only this time, Loki was far angrier than he had been in the past few.

Rather than trying to be clever, it seemed that Loki had adopted Thor and Volstagg’s strategy, as the moment the fight began he charged with all the force of a thousand raging bilgesnipe, his lips twisted into an angry snarl.

But his rage made him reckless, and Hogun was easily able to step away, neatly avoiding Loki and sending him careening to Hogun’s other side. Loki’s injury was made obvious as he stumbled on a step that he never should have missed, and Hogun did not let the opportunity pass him by.

Loki didn’t fall, but he was leaning heavily on his good leg– and Hogun’s mace was at his throat, capable of ejecting long spikes at any moment. The fight was lost, everyone knew it– and Anthony could hear all of their cheers.

Loki did not even look disappointed anymore as he moved away– just resigned.

Anthony found that he felt much the same way, and when he went to speak to Loki before he left, he didn’t even bother asking whether they would go to the stables.

“Just promise me that you’ll rest,” Anthony begged. “Even if you have duties, even if you’re refusing to see a healer. Just please… _rest_.”

Loki’s smile was small, but Anthony thought – _hoped_ – that it was real. “I promise.”

—

Watching the fight the following morning, Anthony wished that Sif could be a little more sympathetic. After all, she and Loki were both in a similar position, both forced to work twice as hard as anyone else to prove themselves.

So, logically, should they not be helping each other? The two outcasts, the two that were not the same as everyone else? But perhaps Sif thought that by putting Loki down, she would redirect the attention of the taunts to the one who was even less of a conventional warrior than she?

Whatever her reasoning, she infused every swing of her double-bladed sword with more malice than was appropriate for a training session– though really, Anthony knew that this had stopped being a training session for Loki long ago, just as the original challenge had never really been such in the first place.

Loki had decided not to fight with his dagger this time, but instead with a slightly shortened halberd– not long enough to be cumbersome in a hand to hand fight, but with a far enough reach that he could get it inside Sif’s sword.

Anthony knew that Loki had trained with staff and spear, but he also knew that Loki favoured the dagger. He had spent hours explaining how it was the perfect weapon for him– easily hidden, accurately thrown, and perfect for getting close with seiðr and then taking out an enemy from behind. That he had chosen a different weapon now was telling– and Anthony felt an inexplicable urge to find the person who had told Loki that a concealed dagger was a coward’s choice and strangle them to the point of near death.

Loki’s movements were as graceful as ever, but it was easy to see that he was not as comfortable with the weapon as he was when he wielded a short and deadly blade. And it was not long before Sif batted the halberd away and slid one blade of her sword into the flesh of Loki’s side.

It was not deep, and it was not in a place that would be fatal for an Aesir, so long as the wound was properly cared for. But blood was staining the ground already, and Anthony was running before he even thought to move, racing toward where Loki had fallen to his knees.

“Lost again, Loki,” Sif said, looking down at him. “I suppose you truly are weak without your tricks.”

Anthony did not pause to speak with her as he rushed past, no matter how much he wished that he could. He wished he could show her how wrong she was, that he could force her to understand just how strong Loki could be, when he was given the chance. But Anthony _couldn’t_– and besides, Loki was far more important.

Loki’s breathing was shallow when Anthony reached him, his skin pale and his fingers stained with red. Anthony dropped to his knees before him and placed a hand on his shoulder, but the shadow of an unwelcome figure caused them both to look up before he had the chance to say a thing.

“Loki,” Thor started—

And Anthony felt something _snap_.

“With all due respect Prince Thor, I think you’ve already done enough.” Anthony’s tone was far too harsh considering exactly _who_ he was speaking to– though honestly, Anthony thought that the elder prince deserved so much worse. Thor may not have started any of it, but he had stood by while his friends tormented his brother for centuries, and he had celebrated with them the past few days at every one of Loki’s falls.

Thor looked about to argue, but after a moment he closed his parted lips and gave a firm nod. He allowed himself one more glance to Loki before turning on his heel and walking away.

“You should not have done that,” Loki rasped, his hands still pressing hard into his side. “I do not need—”

“I know you don’t,” Anthony cut in fiercely, leaning down to hold his own hands over Loki’s, providing additional compression. “I _know_ that you don’t need protection, Loki, because you are capable of beating any of them a thousand times over.”

“Perhaps,” Loki muttered. “But only when I am _cheating_.”

“No,” Anthony insisted. “_No_, Loki, using your seiðr is not _cheating. _If it is, then Thor using Mjölnir is even more a cheat than your seiðr, as it is part of you, but Mjölnir is a _weapon_.”

“Everyone uses weapons,” Loki scoffed, turning his head to glare at the fallen halberd– but then he winced, having pulled at his wound with the movement.

“We should get you to a healer,” Anthony said without another moment’s hesitation. “Loki, that needs seeing to.”

Loki looked like he was about to argue, but he let it go when Anthony pinned him with a stern glare.

Loki’s leg had healed, but he was weakened from blood loss and the pain in his side, so he leaned heavily on Anthony as they made their way back to the palace. Anthony didn’t mind– even like this, the feel of Loki’s body pressed against his own was more comforting than anything else.

The healer levelled both of the two friends with a sharp glare when she saw the state that Loki was in, and their matching _we have no idea how this happened_ smiles that had been perfected over centuries flashed across their faces instinctively.

“You should have come to see me earlier,” she chastised, her hands glowing a light blue as they hovered over Loki’s skin, tendrils of her seiðr curling into every bruise and leaving only smooth, unblemished skin.

“I did not wish to bother you with something so trivial,” Loki said, using that charming tone that could win over almost anyone, so long as they did not already dislike him.

“Prince Loki,” she said firmly. “This leg is broken.”

When Loki merely offered a sheepish smile, she let her gaze slide to Anthony, but Anthony kept his lips tightly shut. Loki had allowed this much, and Anthony didn’t want to push his luck by risking that this got back to Odin– and besides, that would only result in Loki’s further chastisement, which was the last thing that Anthony wanted.

The healer asked that they try to stay safe, and Loki answered with such honesty that even Anthony couldn’t pick the lie. He stayed with Loki for the walk through the hallways, and even though Loki glanced at him curiously, he did not make a comment– at least, not until they arrived at Loki’s quarters only for Anthony to follow him inside.

“Anthony,” Loki said with a frustrated sigh. “You do not need to stay with me. I am healed.”

“Are you sure?” Anthony asked, narrowing his eyes. “Excuse me for worrying, but these past few days—”

“I will not be attending the training session tomorrow,” Loki said, his lips downturned. “So, there is no reason for you to worry at all.”

“What?” Anthony said, only just preventing himself from outright gaping.

Because Loki was _not the sort of person to give up_. He never stopped, not until he’d reached the end– and even then, he just kept on going, because satisfaction was not in Loki’s nature.

For Loki to be giving up now… the inside of his mind must be a lot darker than Anthony had realised.

“They have all already beaten me, there is no one left to fight,” Loki said tiredly. He moved to his bed, perching on the edge of the mattress– and Anthony’s gaze followed him, though he remained frozen by the door. “There is no reason to continue.”

“No reason?” Anthony asked incredulously. “Loki, they… they humiliated you. They put you in a situation where it was impossible for you to win, and then they hit and bruised and _bloodied_ you. The Loki that I know would never let that go without a _fight_. Where did he go?”

“I suppose he was thrown to the ground too many times,” Loki replied, his voice blank. “I already lost the fight.”

At the sound of Loki’s pain, Anthony finally found the strength to cross the room. He kneeled on the ground in front of Loki – in front of the person he adored – and then he took both of Loki’s hands and cradled them gently between his own.

“Just because we fall down, that doesn’t mean that we are down for _good_,” Anthony said, the words fierce and the tone soft. “We can always pull ourselves back up.

“It’s too late,” Loki said, though he did not pull his hands away. “The damage is done. There’s nothing I can do that will make any of this any better.”

Anthony stroked his thumbs over Loki’s knuckles, hoping that maybe it would offer some level of comfort. He knew that Loki had been trapped in a spiral, that he had twisted himself up in too many layers that he could not free himself from. But maybe, with a little help from someone who loved him to remind him of just how great he was, Loki would be able to pull through.

“Using your seiðr does not mean that you are weak,” Anthony said, holding that sad green gaze and hoping that at least a few of his words would make it through. “It is an advantage that you were born with, and one that you have practiced and trained until you are _stronger_ than anyone else. To use it is not your privilege, it is your _right_, and if anyone says any different? Then they are the ones who are weak, for they are just afraid to fight you unless you have your hands tied behind your back.”

Loki’s eyes had widened, and his fingers tightened around Anthony’s. “You really think that way?” he whispered.

“Of course I do,” Anthony insisted. “Your seiðr is a part of who you are– to not use it means that you’re only holding yourself back. There is no _shame_ in using what is part of you. If it were, then… well, bad news for Fandral, because I am going to have to amputate his sword-arm.”

That made the corners of Loki’s lips turn up a little just as Anthony had hoped it would, and he saw the opportunity to press just a little further, hopefully in a way that would help Loki see what he meant.

“Loki,” he said gently. “Tell me. What do we do when we get thrown by a horse?”

For a moment, Loki’s brows creased– but _only_ for a moment.

And when he spoke, it was with firm determination. “We get back on the horse.”

“Exactly. It’s never too late to get back up again. It doesn’t matter that they’ve beaten you before. Go and show them that you can beat them _now_, when the playing field is even. Go and show them _who you are.”_

And when Loki nodded with fierce determination and a vicious smile, Anthony couldn’t help but return it, his chest burning with warmth.

_Tomorrow Loki. Tomorrow, you _will_ win._

—

The next morning, the training grounds were packed.

Anthony and Loki had made sure to get there early, standing together in the middle of the grounds, making their intentions known. They stood there, attracting _expectant_ gazes, waiting for the others to arrive. When they did, they appeared confused– most likely, they had thought that since Loki had been beaten by all four, he wouldn’t be willing to try again. Which, really, wasn’t in the realm of impossibility, since Loki had indeed been rather down the night before. But it still brought a surge of anger curling through Anthony’s chest, because they were just dismissing Loki out of hand– which wasn’t _fair_, because Loki was so much more than they thought he was.

And when Loki stood up straight and announced his intentions, Anthony grinned with fierce pride.

“I challenge Thor Odinson,” Loki declared for all to hear. “We will fight with our chosen weapons to first blood.”

There was a muttering that rippled over the crowd, and Anthony felt sharp satisfaction when he saw Prince Thor and his friends begin to whisper angrily between themselves. Of course it would be difficult for them to understand– after all, Prince Thor was the strongest of all of Asgard’s warriors. Loki had already been bested by Lady Sif and the Warriors Three– what chance did he have against _Thor?_

Of course, Anthony couldn’t actually _hear_ what they were saying, so he did not know for sure whether that was correct. But Thor certainly seemed to think along those lines, if his words when he approached them were any indication.

“Why are you doing this, Loki?” Thor asked, hefting Mjölnir in his hand. “You know that you will only lose.”

“No, brother,” Loki said, his usual choice of dagger sliding into his hand. “No, I won’t be losing today.”

Thor frowned, but stepped up into a ready position.

It was time for Anthony to leave, but he paused for one more moment at Loki’s side.

“Show them who you are,” he whispered fiercely.

Loki nodded, and then Anthony moved to stand by the others, wanting to be close enough to hear what they were saying even if, after the past few days, he found it difficult to be in their company.

It seemed like the whole of Asgard was holding its breath for the signal to begin. After all, it was not often that the two princes fought this way– oh, they bickered as brothers, and they had been seen wrestling and sparring, though less of course in recent decades than when they were children, before Loki had become known as the trickster for dishonourably using his seiðr in bouts. But this was a real challenge– issued formally and accepted. And even though it was only to first blood, there was so much more resting upon it.

Because Loki truly was placing the tattered remains of his pride upon the line—

And Thor was truly expected to win. If Thor lost, it would be a mark upon him for quite some time. It was clear that wasn’t an outcome that Thor had even considered to be possible, however.

Then the signal was made, the calm surged up and the storm arrived.

Loki didn’t wait for Thor to move first, but he didn’t charge recklessly, either. He darted to the side with his _dagger_ in hand, crouched down under one of Thor’s mighty swings and then aimed for Thor’s legs. As he did so, Anthony noticed a slight flicker in Loki’s form, but it didn’t seem like anybody else did. Loki continued to weave and dodge, and it was clear that Thor was getting frustrated. He looked like he was trying to swat a fly, always missing, always swatting harder and _faster_ and wearing himself out—

Then Loki stumbled over something, _just_ like had when he was fighting Hogun two days before. Thor gleefully took the opportunity that presented and swung with his hammer, and Anthony could see that in his frustration Thor was swinging too hard, hard enough to break bones at least—

But Anthony’s smile of anticipation only widened into a grin as Thor’s hammer went straight through the illusion– and not only that, but the force of the swing sent him off balance, the hammer going straight up and nearly sending Thor falling backward. Thor snarled and cursed at Loki– Loki who was now to Thor’s left, to his right, behind and in front, all four faces wearing the exact same taunting smirk.

“What’s this, brother?” Loki asked. “Not quite as easy as you thought it would be?”

Thor snarled, and launched himself at an illusion– and the fight began again in earnest.

“Loki’s cheating!” Sif exclaimed. “He’s using his seiðr!”

“No, he’s not cheating,” Anthony said, his grin stretching wickedly as he leaned forward in excitement. “He’s _winning_.”

The fight, like so many others that had taken place over the past week, did not last long at all.

Thor could not find which illusion was the real Loki – because none of them _were_, Anthony knew – yet he continued to swat at them, growing angrier and angrier.

“Show yourself, Loki!” Thor yelled. “Stop being a coward!”

“Maybe I am a coward,” Loki said, his voice echoing through half a dozen mouths, the sound almost eerie. “Maybe you are all correct about that. But… when battle comes, and it is life and death, it is the _cowards_ who know how to fight without putting themselves needlessly in harm’s way. It is the cowards who know how to _win._”

“Without honour,” Thor snapped.

“Maybe so,” Loki allowed. “But winning without honour is still _winning_.”

That seemed to be a step too far for Thor. Without a word of warning he raised Mjölnir to the sky with a mighty yell, and when he brought the hammer down, he brought lightning down with it. Thankfully, Thor was in control enough to avoid hitting the audience, but the bolts crashed down everywhere inside the ring, hitting without prejudice, scarring the ground and obliterating Loki’s attempts of avoidance.

The illusions flickered and vanished– and there was Loki, standing on the complete other side of the ring.

Thor smiled in victory, raised Mjölnir once more, and then aimed a bolt of pure electricity directly toward his brother.

There would be no way for Loki to possibly avoid it– and yet he never faltered. He calmly brought both hands up in front of his face, arms straight and elbows locked, his thumbs touching. Then he threw his arms out to this side and a dome of seiðr exploded outward at the movement, emerald green and rushing across the training ground. When the two forces collided, Anthony was half afraid that Loki’s shield was going to falter, and it seemed that the crowd were sure of the outcome, Lady Sif and the other three shouting and jeering and waving their arms—

“This is it, Loki!”

“Give up before you lose your chance!”

“Don’t be stupid, Loki!”

“Come on, Loki!” Anthony shouted, doing his best to be heard over all the others. “You have this!”

Loki grit his teeth and _snarled_, and then the magic pushed back against all the electric force of the sky. The lightning arced from Mjölnir but had nowhere to go– it bounced back to Thor, who was forced to cut the stream—

And then Loki’s seiðr exploded outward unhindered, and Thor was thrown hard off his feet, Mjölnir slipping from his fingers as he was sent sailing through the air. He landed hard on his back right in front of the spectators, the breath knocked out of him.

There was a moment again where everything just felt still—

And then in a split second, Loki had traversed the distance between them and had his dagger pressed into Thor’s throat, just enough to draw a single drop of bright red blood.

The battle was over, Loki had won—

Loki looked up and his gaze immediately found Anthony’s, his eyes bright and so very _happy—_

But then Thor’s fingers stretched out over the dirt, reaching, _calling—_

Anthony jumped a step forward, a shout already half way out of his throat when Loki spun around, the sound of Mjölnir screaming through the air alerting him—

His expression hardened, and then he vanished—

Reappeared a mere few feet away, standing tall, his hands splayed out, his brow furrowed in complete and utter determination—

But he was standing _right in Mjölnir’s_ _path_, as if he had positioned himself there on purpose—

Anthony’s stomach was clenching, his head aching, his heart _screaming_ but he would not be able to get there on time, and Thor had not yet dropped his hand, had not yet realised what he was about to do—

Then Loki’s power _flared_, and a tear appeared in the fabric of the world, ripping through reality and opening a portal– right in Mjölnir’s path. The hammer flew straight through the portal, and then Loki slammed his hands together with a sharp _clap_, and the portal closed once more.

The crowd was silent as Loki turned back to face Thor, his expression stony.

“You look like you might be bleeding, brother,” Loki told him. “I suppose you must not have noticed before you summoned Mjölnir. Attacking after a duel has been won is _incredibly_ dishonourable, after all.”

Thor said nothing to that– he looked like he was in shock. But Loki didn’t seem to care. He merely walked straight past his brother and over to the edge of the training grounds, moving with a single minded purpose to stand directly in front of Anthony.

“Anthony,” Loki greeted, holding out his hand. “Shall we?”

Anthony didn’t think twice as he took Loki’s hand, and as he felt the warm rush of Loki’s seiðr spread over his skin, he didn’t think that his smile had ever been so bright.

—

Anthony had always loved spending time with Loki in the stables. It was a place they could go where they knew they would never be bothered– Loki always paid the stable hands to never tell anyone when they were there, and no one would ever think to look.

Sometimes, they went riding. But most times they would merely sit on the bench opposite Loki’s stallion’s stall, leaning against each other and swapping stories without worry of what anyone would think.

“How long do we have until you need to go back to your duties?” Anthony asked as he sat beside Loki on their normal bench, turning slightly so that their knees knocked together and they were facing each other properly.

“I do not need to,” Loki said, holding Anthony’s gaze warmly. “I cleared the rest of my day.”

“And what about Thor?” Anthony asked. “He’s not the sort to sit and lick his wounds. He’s going to want to speak with you.”

The corners of Loki’s lips turned up, and something mischievous flashed in his eyes. “He shall not be bothering us,” Loki said. “Thor is going to be waiting for Mjölnir for rather a long time.”

Understanding the amusement, Anthony matched the smirk and asked curiously, “Where did you send her?”

Loki shrugged, as if the answer mattered little– but the truth of his pure enjoyment was clear in the wolfishness of his grin. “Muspelheim.”

Anthony snorted at first, but then he began to _laugh_. “Oh, Norns,” he chuckled. “Thor is going to be waiting for _weeks_.”

“Yes,” Loki agreed. “I imagine that he will not think to ask for Heimdall’s help, to use the Bifröst to bring her back to Asgard.”

“And of course, you would never suggest that he do such a thing,” Anthony added.

“Of course not,” Loki replied with a mocking gasp. “I would not want to make things too easy for him, after all.”

They laughed together for a while, leaning into each other’s sides for support. And it was a few moments later, when Anthony almost had his head resting on Loki’s shoulder that the prince looked down with a warm smile.

“I won today,” Loki said, sounding a little awed. “I bested Thor in a _duel_.”

“You did,” Anthony replied, nudging their shoulders together. “I knew that you could do it. I knew that you could have beaten any one of them, and now you know it too.”

“I didn’t beat him without my seiðr,” Loki replied, and Anthony was preparing himself for another attempt at trying to convince Loki that _didn’t matter_– but then he saw that Loki’s expression was more than just accepting. It was _pleased_. “But I still beat him. If it were a real fight I would win, and that is more important than proving myself to any of _them_.”

Anthony was brimming with pride, so very happy that Loki had found it in him be proud of _himself. _

“Thank you, Anthony,” Loki said gently. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Yes, you could have,” Anthony said immediately. “You can do anything, you don’t need me—”

“No,” Loki interrupted, his tone still soft. “You make me feel stronger, like I could take on the whole of the Nine and come out on top. And maybe what you’re saying is true, and I don’t _need_ you…” Loki trailed off, for a moment, and he lifted a hand to cup Anthony’s cheek. “What if… what if I _wanted_ you to be by my side?”

Anthony was about to say that of course, he already _was_. He had pledged that to Loki before, and he always would stand by his friend. But then he saw the tenderness in Loki’s eyes, the tentative question that he hadn’t quite asked, but which was written over his expression in every other way possible.

And when he thought of all the time he had spent longing for just a little more, settling for _enough_ but wanting _everything, _wishing for something that was completely out of his reach… when he thought of the way that Loki made him smile, the way that he looked forward to time with Loki more than anything else, and the way that Loki was looking at him now like he held Loki’s very heart in his hands… he knew that there was only one answer that he could give.

“If you were to ask,” Anthony whispered, leaning in toward Loki’s touch on his cheek. “I think I would say that it’s something I want, as well.”

Their lips touched gently at first, the hesitant brush of a first time. It was light and yet it was electrifying, and it felt somehow both perfect and yet only the leadup to something even more. So Anthony leaned a little closer, pressing their lips more firmly together to see if it were possible to heighten the sensation even further. Loki’s hands pressed into his back, drawing Anthony toward him as they deepened the kiss, growing in confidence as they moved together as if they had always been meant to, as if this was the way that they properly fit.

And when they leaned away, they held each other’s gaze, unspoken promises echoing between them and singing with the joy of coming together.

“Anthony, if we do this, you should know.” Loki levelled his gaze, though he did not move further away. “If you are with me, then you will likely receive the same taunts—”

“Good,” Anthony cut in. “Let them try. I’ll gladly suffer with you, Loki, and then the pair of us can kick their ass.”

“Oh, I am not planning on suffering,” Loki answered, his tone lighter than it had been before he posed the question, and Anthony knew that his answer was already trusted. “Even if they continue to taunt me, it does not matter.” A smirk crossed his lips, and it was as sharp as his blade. “_I_ know now where I stand.”

“And not to mention,” Anthony added, “if any of them ever bother you again, you can just open up a portal and threaten to send them to Muspelheim. They all know that you _can_ now, and I bet they’re all completely terrified that you’re going to do it to them at any moment.”

And when Loki laughed at that with the sound of complete delight, Anthony couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him again, enjoying that press of lips and the warmth that it spread all through his body.

They both knew that the taunts wouldn’t stop, but now Loki knew that he could rise above it– and Anthony would be there with him every single step of the way.


End file.
